His Other Godfather
by VizeerLord
Summary: He is a man with a dark and stained past. but he loved her, and he should not be hated for it.


AN; with the last movie quickly approaching, I am being flooded with HP influences, it has began to flavor how my other stories are going, so I need to open a new stream of story, or my 'heroes' are going to start speaking snake.

His Other Godfather

isdh

* * *

He stared at the letter delivered by owl just hours ago. His radio had just declared the Dark Lord dead. He had felt the burning of his 'dark mark' tattoo just an hour ago. And still he feared to open that perfumed letter.

He was torn between anger, frustration, hatred, and a lump of coal in the pit of his stomach; love. It was all shrouded in a cloak of fear.

He snapped up the letter, and ripped it open. The three pages, writen in '_Her' _gentle, flowing hand. It poured out her heart to him. It did not blame him for the acts done in his name nor by his hand. She did not hate him, for his rivalry with her husband, for the acts he took against James, when even after school was over and she had married the rouge. She even recalled and blessed his skill in the potion's lab. She saw him as her only true rival for the title of best in class.

Then she grew cold. She knew that her time was at an end. She knew that he was a double agent for Albus and the Order. She knew that when the dust settled and the air cleared, odds were that he would be a teacher at Hogwarts, most likely the Potions Master. She had a favor, to ask of him.

She was asking him to be a Godfather to young Harry. To mentor him in Potions, to encourage him in their shared art. To forgive Him, to not hold his anger at James against little Harry.

He sat there, long into the night, thinking about what was being asked of him...

* * *

years later...

Young Harry followed the Massive Hagrid into the bottomless vaults of Gringotts**, **his mind cast back to the great doors and the inscription found there.

"_Enter, stranger, but take heed  
Of what awaits the sin of greed  
For those who take, but do not earn,  
Must pay most dearly in their turn.  
So if you seek beneath our floors  
A treasure that was never yours,  
Thief, you have been warned, beware  
Of finding more than treasure there._"

They climbed into the little cart, and just before he was ready, off they went. As the cart pulled to a stop and the goblin got out and waved for Harry to join him. Towering over the young male, Harry handed over the key when prompted. As the double doors swung out showing the piles of gold, silver, and copper coins piled higher then the poor boy was tall, he gasped in shock. Taking the small bag from the goblin, he poured/pushed many armfuls of gold coins in to the sack. Returning to the cart, he collected the key from the goblin as he climbed into his seat.

Again he was just unprepared for the cart to bolt for the lower vaults. As he griped the rail, he let out a shrill of excitement. The young goblin grinned with him as they took a turn a little too fast, the only thing keeping them on the tracks was Hagrid's mass. The Big guy was grinning into his beard, not wanting to either encourage the younglings, nor to dampen their enjoyment of the ride.

As the cart pulled to a stop out side Vault 713. The Goblin hopped out as Hagrid levered himself to his feet, and stood before the great doors. The goblin drew his fingers down the stone, allowing the inner locks to click and pop. As the great doors swung open, Hagrid reached down, grabbed the small bundle, and moved back as the doors closed and relocked.

The Ride back was slower but as mush fun, with the carts whizzing by on their way down, and the tracks crawling by faster then a man could run...

As the cart rumbled into the parking area and stopped, Hagrid leveraged himself out of the cart. Harry stood and turned to the young goblin. "I am curious, would it offend you, if I offered you a gratuity?" the young Goblin frowned. Harry offered his hand to shake, having palmed a gold coin.

Ever hesitant, the Goblin slowly took the boy's hand, his eyebrows rising when the coin was transferred to his palm. Two pumps and the younglings backed off.

"Thanks, the ride was great fun." Harry bowed his head to the goblin, then hurried after Hagrid. Out on the street, Hagrid led Harry to the shops he need to go to. Wands, Robes, Books, and Potion supplies. As Harry was finishing up, Hagrid bought Harry his White Owl.

And we know the rest of this part. Within Forty-eight hours, Harry was at the Train station, following the redheads through the solid stone wall, into the underground train platform. Once on board, he was in the last car, in the last cabin, when the youngest of the redheads joined him. When the goody-witch pushed her cart by, they had a little party.

Then there was the boat ride across the lake. As the group climbed to outside of the great hall, A 'Pure-blood' tried to make friends, but with his instincts from when he was dodging bullies in the muggle world screamed at him, he turned away. When the old witch led them before the assembled houses, the sorting hat sang;

"_Oh you may not think I'm pretty, _

_but don't judge on what you see,_

_I'll eat myself if you can find a smarter hat than me._"

Harry missed the rest of the song, as his eyes were once again drawn to the ceiling. He did notice that a few teachers had their eye on him. He also noticed where the blond bully was selected, Slytherin,

Once it was his turn, and the hat fell about his ears, he whispered "Not Slytherin!" and so the hat dithered and bothered before roaring out "Gryffindor!"

That night he fell asleep in his own bed, with the curtains pulled tight, and the soft feathered mattress begging to carry him into a dreamland, not knowing that his Dreams for now were answered.

* * *

That night, a dark, almost sinister man paced in his office. His eyes on the small picture of a fiery redhead from his youth. Throughing his rage to the wind, he stormed from his office, to the Gargoyle that blocked the way to headmasters office. "Out of my way, or I will turn you inside out and shove you down the nearest bathroom floor drain."

The stone beast gave him a hairy eyeball and stepped aside. The headmaster was waiting at the top of the stairs when Severus arrived at the door. "I wish you would not torment the guardian like that. It is only doing its job."

"I have a complication, Headmaster." he handed the letter to Dumbledore.

Dumbledore did not look at the letter, but just watched his Potions Master. "Still?"

"Always and ever after." Severus answered.

"Well, my advice; tomorrow, ask Mister Potter to stay after class." Dumbledore handed the letter back unread, "Have some tea, and talk about his mother, and her skill. Talk to him, about your anger at the pranks and what not that James and his band did to you. Tell the truth. James was a good man and loved Lilly, but during his years here..." Dumbledore frowned "Be honest, be truthful, and be gentle. He lost his parents, and was bullied by his muggle family."

Severus nodded. "Thanks Headmaster, that helps." Neither could tell if there was any sarcasm in that sentence.

* * *

Ron and Harry pounded into Transfiguration. Looking about, Ron sighed, "No teacher, looks like we are in the clear."

Just then the cat on the desk leaped at them. In mid-air the cat morphed into McGonagall. Ron's jaw dropped.

Harry just smiled. "Professor, I apologize, but the staircase moved on us, and we had to run the long way around. Next time, I will be leaving five minutes early, just in-case."

"Okay. Take your seats. We will start with the basics. Wands out, and ..."

Only Hermione was able to focus her magic enough even start the transmorphing of the object.

* * *

As the students filed into the dungeon class room for potions, Severus stood watching the class through a viewing charm. As the young clone of his hated rival entered with trio of Gryffindor flunkies, his knuckles whited as he gripped his wand. As two of them dropped into seats, the clone and the redhead at his side joined the mousy bushy haired girl in the middle of the class.

Was he just imaging things?

Well, it was time to scare the kiddies...

After his grand entrance, his epic speech about the power and grandiose glory that is Potion making, he quizzed young Harry. Hermione knew the answers, and she reminded him of young Lilly... on with class.

When the clock chimed the class began to pack up their things. "Mister Potter, please stay behind. There is something I need to ask you." once the room was empty, he swiped his wand, closing and locking the door.

He led the boy to his office and waved the boy to a seat. "This was your mothers favorite blend. I keep a few tins of it in her memory." he poured two cups of a rosy amber liquid. A small plate of jam biscuits were at hand. "What do you remember of your mother or your father?"

"Nothing Sir." Harry sounded unnerved.

"We were the same year, the six of us. Your mother and I lived a few blocks from one another, but it was not until we were about ten years of age that we truly met. It was puppy love at first sight, me for her." Severus blinked away tears as him memory cast back to those simple times. "When we got our letters to Hogwarts, I briefly held the idea that we would be house mates. But she got sorted into Gryffindor and I got Slytherin." his eyes turned to stone. to stone. "Also sorted into Gryffindor were your father and his pack of friends. The four of them made my life here at Hogwarts hell. The only time I was safe was in potions class. Where your mother challenged me to be the best. She was my rival in Potions. Even Muggle born, She was the best. I learned many tricks of my trade from her, as she learned from me. Our Potions Master, loved her more then me, but he was of my house. She could out brew me, five potions to my four, almost every time."

He sipped his tea. "Then in my fifth year, I made a mistake. I chose a path. A Path that tore her from me. It is possible that if I had gone to her on my knees and begged, We might have reforged our friendship, but in my pain, pride, and youth, I could not."

He stood and walked to his desk, picking up photo frame, he turned to Harry. "I never stopped loving her. She was a good woman. In the end, she wrote to me. Forgiving me my sins." he handed Harry the picture. It was a red haired witch mixing a potion and grinning.

"I hated your Father. As a student, he was a bully and a jock. A troublemaker and a Rouge. Him, Sirius Black, Remus Lupin, and Peter Pettigrew were the bane of my life. Not a week went by where they did not hex me or worse." he sipped his tea. "That was during his school days. I am told that after school he straightened up. He acted the fool to attract your mother at school, but she saw him as a bully and troublemaker. I am told that in his seventh year he put aside his pranks and childish ways to woo her. By that time, I was already gone."

"And you are tell me this why?" Harry asked.

"The Hatred that I felt for your Father, I now feel towards you. You look like him, but you have your mother's eyes." he looked away, trying bring his voice under control. "Your mother wrote me a letter hours before she died. It asked me to forgive your father his crimes. To look after you. To encourage your passion for potions." he pulled a scrap of paper from his sleeve. "this is a list of books on potions and the art of potion making. That Muggle born, Granger, would enjoy helping you with these books."

A wave of his wand. "Finish your tea and go." he handed Harry another strip of paper, "So you will be excused from reprimands from your next teacher for being late.

The Boy bolted.


End file.
